Till We Meet Again
by Alba aka Luthien Miriel
Summary: whatever you do, I'd die for you." those were his words. "I'll turn away from the Light Side, if this will let me stay with you forever" she answered


By Alba

A/N: hey. I'm still obsessed with Draco and that's what comes out of it!! It's not a Mary Sue, though. If you don't believe it, just read it!

Of course, I don't own any of the characters, except those you won't recognize. Kind of logical, isn't it? Don't know why I'm even writing this note… enjoy!

Set after Hogwarts –war has just broken out.

I was but eighteen when the greatest war the magical world had ever seen broke out. It's strange, how everybody looked different this unforgettable year. All my friends had a look of unease mixed with a fear on their faces. It was not the first time we heard worrying news – after all, we were Aurors, trained to fight the Dark Side. But we had rarely been told that the most deadly war had just broken out. Does it sound cheesy? It didn't to me when I heard it, trust me.

I was flying next to Harry, Ron, Ginny and Neville, and behind me, I guessed Lavender's and her husband's shapes. We had been called to Hogwarts to a council regarding the Aurors' role in the upcoming war. We had been told to use our broomsticks, not apparition, for no specified reason. Though the journey from the Ministry to Hogwarts – by broomstick – is long and tiring, especially now that winter was coming, I think it did me good. The biting wind woke me from the lethargy into which I had slumbered.

None of us was talking. A silence had fallen upon us after the arrival of the dreaded message. None could believe it, when Ron had read those few, concise lines… war had broken out. Obviously, after it had been avoided all these years, it just _had_ to happen, and, let's face it, we had all expected it… still, it was a shock. I remember seeing Ron's face when he breathed out the last words. He was struggling to stay calm, but the interior battle between panic and manly poise inside him was plain to see on his face. Since then, we hadn't uttered a word. In the beginning, I had thought, 'well, we all knew it was going to happen, so let's be brave.' But then, I had looked at my reflection in a mirror, and had realized that I had the same expression as all the others. I was afraid, too.

Among all those frightened faces and hushed voices, there had been only one that had stayed calm – Harry's. He had been strangely serene. But his calmness hadn't soothed me – far from it. If possible, it had scared me more. It was as if a veil had fallen over his usually so vivid face. Bad sign.

We were arriving at Hogwarts. I looked up and watched its shape, towering high, black against the sky where the sun set peach-colored rays. I could not help gasping – I don't think Hogwarts ever looked so beautiful. From this moment, I knew that, if it was to be destroyed, this was the way I wanted to remember it: looking so beautiful in the darkening sky.

The dining room had never looked so grand, so huge, so solemn. We were all alone, silent, still. No one wanted to disturb the somber peace. We were supposed to meet McGonagall, Dumbledore, and someone from the Ministry. But for the moment, none was there. We sat down on one table, and waited. The atmosphere was so different from the one I had been used to during my years at school…

Suddenly, the heavy doors were pushed open, and three grave figures entered. I immediately recognized Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, but they were accompanied by a small, fat man with a huge red nose that made me think of Rudolph the Reindeer.

"Our Aurors" The Reindeer said excitedly. "I'm glad you made it. The others obviously had trouble arriving. We can't wait, though."

And with that, he waved his wand quickly, and the room around us vanished. Or maybe it was us who vanished. We found ourselves in Dumbledore's office. All the people in the portraits were gone, and even the Phoenix was nowhere to be seen. The flaps were shut, and only little light entered through them. But Dumbledore made no move to light the room up. He sat down on a chair and bid us to take place.

"What can I say?" he started. "Would it be ridiculous to say 'my dear friends, beware, for war is upon us.'? I agree it would indeed be. But these words resume a long speech I should have prepared to smooth the shock. Yet… it cannot be helped. We have been officially attacked, and Death Eaters have presented Lord Voldemort's declaration of war. We cannot shut our eyes in front of the sad reality any more. We cannot ignore the lies, the fights, the murders. It sounds and feels bizarre to have this speech in these modern days, while Muggles are thinking about nuclear and biological wars. We have no such weapons. Yet we have to fight."

He closed his eyes briefly while we digested his words. I felt a knot in my throat. It felt like a nightmare, not reality. I expected protests, little screams from Ginny and tongue-tied jokes from Ron, but none came. None looked at each other. We were all staring at Dumbledore – all of us: Harry, Ginny, Ron, Neville, Gabriel and Lavender Hopkins. Nobody talked for a long while. Then Harry said, suddenly:

"When and how can I start?"

Not 'when can _we_ start?'. _I_. 

**Two weeks later**

It was amazing how quick both sides had reacted to the declaration of war. The whole magical world was turned upside down. Auror forces were being armed in the Ministry; new Aurors were being instructed, and even the youngest child learned basic defense – and attack – spells. 

I had never been much of a belligerent. War had always struck me as a bloody, cruel and pretty brainless solution to hostilities that could have been solved peacefully. But now that I walked through the streets of Hogsmeade, and watched a small patrol of Aurors on broomsticks landing elegantly, I couldn't help feeling a bit of thrill. _Excitement_. That's the word. Excitement is contagious. The greatest war the magical world had ever seen had broken out, and I was to fight in it. 

Ginny and Lavender were walking with me, looking still more agitated than me. We were not in Hogsmeade for pleasure – Harry, the new head of the Aurors, had summoned another meeting. Till now, I had done little in the war, except sorting out files, like usually, and a few minor missions to clear some muggle streets from Death Eaters. A quite thankless job. So I wasn't too displeased by the perspective of 'fighting' more actively.

We entered the 'Three Broomsticks'. A strange atmosphere was reigning there. My vision was blurred by an excessive quantity of smoke, and there was an unpleasant scent of alcohol in the air. Obviously, way too many Butterbeers had been drunk in this place. I didn't recognize the once so comfy bar where I had spent my weekends during my time at Hogwarts. I remembered that there used to be groups of students and nice-looking wizards and witches sitting around the tables, smiling and chatting. Small cups of Butterbeer would have been pushed at the bar, and laughter would have been heard every now and then. But these times were gone: now I saw only grim travelers, bending over their tables, whispering hoarsely. The place was quite dirty and noisy, nothing like what it had been some years earlier.

Ginny, Lavender and I sat down on a free table, looking awkwardly around us. We ordered three cups of coffee – distrusting the smell of the Butterbeers – and went quiet. We were waiting for Harry, Neville, Hopkins and Ron, whom we had to meet at the 'Three Broomsticks'.

Fortunately for us, they soon came to relieve us from the nerve-racking glances some wizards gave us. 

"Hey" Harry said. "Great that you could make it."

He sat down, looking with slight disgust at the crowd of people around him. Then his face went indifferent again and he started talking.

"The reason for our meeting is the same as always: we've got to find new ways to weaken the enemy. I know it sounds kind of cheesy, but the truth is, I don't give a damn. Today's project is spying. Anyone has anything to comment? No? Guessed so."

Presently, Gabriel Hopkins continued Harry's speech:

"Harry and I have projected to divide the work among us. We want to spy as many Death Eater-infested places as possible, and, most important of all, we don't want all to be caught like rats in a trap. If one is caught, the others don't meddle in. As easy as that. Still no protests?"

The girls and I exchanged half-amused glances. It _was_ kind of cliché. When I looked at Harry and met his frosty green eyes, the smile vanished from my face.

"No protests." I murmured.

"So," Harry continued. "Ron, Ginny and a couple of apprentices are going to attend a mass-meeting of Death Eaters at midnight, hoping no one will notice a couple of Light Wizards in the crowd. The Hopkinses are herewith assigned the task of watching the Times Street – a lot of Dark activity has been detected there. As for Hermione-"

He looked at me for a long time, before saying:

"She'll follow me into a Death Eater festivity tonight. We found out by chance that there was a sort of party for Death Eaters. You know, one of these medieval-like balls where people are supposed to come with masks? This kind of ridiculous stuff. Guess who organizes the ball."

As none of us knew, Harry's lips curled in a joyless smile, and he said:

"It's at Malfoy Manor."

I was back in the Ministry with Harry, thinking about how shocking it was that the Death Eaters were having a party while outside, battles were being fought. Obviously, the Malfoys had money to spare. I frowned while smoothing the white gown Harry had procured for me. How long was it ago since I last saw Malfoy? At least two years… I had never doubted he had and his family belonged to the Dark Side, yet it felt quite strange to know he was officially my enemy now… at least, Harry, Ron and I would get the revenge we had always wanted. After all, he _had_ persecuted us during all these years at Hogwarts. Harry was behind me, buttoning his green shirt. He had opted for black pants, a poison-green shirt with puffed sleeves and a short cape. He also had a blonde wig that looked dreadfully artificial.

"Ready?" he asked.

I nodded, giving my reflection a last glance.

I had not turned pretty with the years – my hair was as bushy as always. I had tied the upper third of it in a lose braid, and had curled some strands that fell on my face. I was wearing a white dress with a very wide gown, and a tight corset was squeezing my waist. Ginny had provided what she had called 'a cute touch': a couple of snow-white wings made of real feathers. The last element of my costume was an elaborately decorated mask behind which my face was thoroughly unidentifiable. I shook my head, reflecting again about the ridiculousness of it all – going to a ball while a war raged struck me as the most stupid thing ever. But if Harry said so, it had to be useful.

"Can we apparate, now?" I asked him.

He nodded, and put the mask over his face. I gazed at him before he vanished.

'He looks strangely like a Slytherin with these clothes.' I thought, and immediately blamed myself.

I closed my eyes and concentrated. When I opened them again, I found myself at Harry's side, in front of a huge, dark building.

Malfoy Manor.

It was more like a castle – with spiky towers, surrounded by a grand garden, encircled by a high gate. I didn't see much of it in the gloom, but I believe it is a beautiful house. I wish I had seen it in more pleasant circumstances. If the Malfoys hadn't been evil, for example. 

"Mask?" Harry asked blankly. 

"Yes."

"Let's go in, then."

He lightly touched the gate with the wand he had stolen from a capture Death Eater. Obviously, the Malfoys weren't stupid, and had installed this one measure of security: the gate opened only at the touch of the wand of a Death Eater. But since we had one, this was quite useless.

By magic, the gate opened without a noise. I entered the solemn manor behind Harry.

I was amazed by the number of Death Eater assembled in the huge ballroom of Malfoy Manor. The jewels, the magnificent costumes and the cheerfulness took me aback – they looked so human. I had never imagined that _Death Eaters_ would behave like this. Some couples were actually dancing, others were just sitting in semi-circles, chatting. I first thought there was an extremely cheerful and natural atmosphere. But when someone in black clothes cleared his throat and as a consequence, everybody went quiet, I realized there was something robotic in everybody's behavior.

The someone was actually a quite tall, quite well-built man, dressed in black from head to toes. He had silvery blonde hair that was slicked back with an inkling of gel. A pair of light eyes the color of which I could not identify from this distance were gleaming behind a black mask. But the detail I noticed first were the wings on his back – bat-like, shiny black wings.

"Welcome" he said in a deep, nicely sonorous masculine voice. "let the ball begin."

He made a sign towards the musicians in one corner of the purposely dark room, and they began playing Beethoven's 'Letter to Eliza'. Well, at least he had a good taste.

I threw an awkward glance at Harry, but he was obviously not looking at me. His glance was fixed on a petite blonde girl that resembled Malfoy extremely. Contrarily to all the others, she had no mask, and was wearing a simple, cream-colored, sleeveless dress. She had something ethereal, evanescent about her, accentuated by the heaviness of her pale golden curls and her huge grey eyes, framed by dark lashes that beat a bit too quickly. Without hesitation, Harry walked towards her and offered her his hand. After sharing a glance with him, she immediately accepted. The last I saw of them was how she was resting her head on his shoulder. I sat down on a chair, all alone. Obviously, none of these Death Eaters thought me pretty enough to dance. My glance was divagating on the most interesting objects in the ballroom – hundreds of books on shelves, when I heard the voice again:

"Would the lady grant me this dance?"

I tilted my head, and faced the young man who had ordered the musicians to play a short time before. Strangely, I didn't even hesitate. Something in his silvery eyes, in the almost mean way he was smirking, fascinated me enough to make me place my hand in icy one. His smirk broadened, and he helped me to stand up. Then he started swirling me in his arms with a grace that was surprising in a man of his breadth of shoulders.

I immediately started my spying-program by saying:

"Would you tell me who I have the honor to be dancing with?"

"I think," he answered, "that the purpose of such balls is for identities to be unknown."

Our eyes met. Something in his' was so sparkling, so full of life and passion, that it was hard to believe that they belonged to a monster.

"I trust that you are enjoying yourself." He said then.

"I certainly am."

Then I said to myself, 'wrong answer, Hermione. Does anyone else look like he's having fun?' but fortunately, my partner did not react to this. 

As the music went slower, he drew me close and I had to lean my head on his shoulder. Our faces were so close, I could see his nostrils swelling as he breathed softly. I had thus an opportunity to observe his face (at least what I could see of it). He was uncommonly pale, but obviously not anemic. His nose was aquiline, slightly pointy, and his lips were pale and luscious. Not that I was staring at his lips. He obviously noticed my gaze, because he tilted his head and smirked.

"Observing me?" he hissed.

"No."

To prove I wasn't desperate enough to stare at a Death Eater, I looked away from him and followed Harry with my gaze. He was still dancing with the pale blonde youth. I wondered why he had chosen her so directly, without hesitating, and why she had so quickly accepted.

"Since you can't observe me, you observe Miss Malfoy." My partner commented amusedly.

"Miss Malfoy?" I repeated.

"Yes."

He pushed me slightly away, so that he could face me directly. I felt his hot breath on my face.

"Didn't you know this young lady is Miss Malfoy?"

He smiled strangely as he said this, as if he knew perfectly that I didn't. I shivered. His hands had such a strong, claw-like grip on my shoulders, and his eyes had such a frosty glint, that I felt terrified all of a sudden. Then he laughed, and drew me back on his shoulder, closing his arms around me. His black, extremely wide sleeves cascaded down my back, and I felt swallowed by darkness.

I never remembered anything else of the night, except the strange tickling that my partner's long fingers produced on my skin. I think we danced the whole night long. Even now, I can't explain why he never stopped, why he never chose another partner, but I didn't really mind. Obviously, it never came to my mind to ask him to stop either. I felt intoxicated in his arms, as if I had taken drugs. At one point, I felt someone patting my shoulder, and I saw Harry. At this moment, I still had my arms around my partner's neck, and his hands were still locking me in his embrace.

"We have to go." He whispered.

"Already?" I said dreamily.

He threw me an acid glance, which finished tearing me away from my partner. But he said:

"Allow me to steal her from you for one more minute, sir. She will be free immediately."

Something in his tone prohibited reply, and even Harry, who was anything but obedient, drew back a few steps.

My partner drew me close again, and whispered into my ear:

"Next time, be more careful, Granger."

My heart pounded in my throat. I froze, and gasped.

At that moment, I knew who he was.

Malfoy looked at me for a long time, and slowly, another smirk crept over his face. His soft lips bared sharp white teeth.

"Till we meet again." He murmured, and he kissed my hand.


End file.
